


Mistletoe

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, obligatory awkward cheesy-ass mistltoe fic from xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'i consented to letting my brother and my best friend decorate the bunker for Christmas and they turned it into a challenge to make me kiss my other best friend,' a novel by Dean Winchester</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

"Dean, what's that?"  
Dean quickly jumps out of the way when he sees where Cas is pointing. Up above the door, tied with a red ribbon, is a sprig of mistletoe. Dean's going to have to interrogate Sam about that.  
"That's mistletoe, dude," he explains as he puts more distance between himself and the door frame. Cas is still standing under it, looking confused.  
"I was aware of its botanical name," Cas says. "But why is it hanging above the doorway?"  
Dean sighs and shoves a hand though his hair. "There's some stupid tradition that you have to kiss whichever poor fucker you get stuck under it with." Of course, it hadn't been a stupid tradition for Dean at all in the past. He remembers Christmas of his sophomore year, going to a party and "accidentally" passing under the mistletoe next to the hottest girl there. She hadn't minded. And the next year he'd gotten a kiss and also gotten laid, which had been awesome. But mistletoe kisses had been sparse since high school, as a Christmas off was a rare occurrence.  
But, currently, there's no one in the bunker Dean particularly wants to kiss, and as far as he knows Kevin, Sam, and Charlie aren't harboring any secret feelings for each other (Dorothy couldn't come, something in Oz), so Dean doesn't know what Sam's playing at.  
Cas takes a second to process the information, then keeps going out from under the door to walk beside Dean.  
"Stay as far away from those god-forsaken doors as you can," Dean advises.  
+++  
"Dean, where's Cas? It's almost midnight."  
"I don't know why you sons of bitches insist on staying up all night," Dean grumbles. "You're taking the fun out of it!"  
"Because Santa is just waiting to come down our chimney," Sam says dryly, "right."  
Dean sighs and gets up from his chair. Kevin and Charlie are sitting along the table edge to his right, drinking sparkling cider out of champagne glasses and discussing some stupid magic card game. Sam and Dean both have mugs of booze-tinted eggnog, and all four of them have been munching at rock-hard, red-sugar-coated, Santa-shaped cookies. They'd even taken a few of the staler cookies down to Crowley in the basement and shoved a Santa hat on his head ("I'm not your bloody Saint Nick! I demand you take this off right n-"). Sam had lamented the lack of white beard, but Dean had made the photo his new screensaver on his phone.  
"I don't know why you always expect me to know where the guy is," Dean sighs, setting down his mug and pushing in his chair. "But I'll go look." He heads for the door, careful not to touch any of the perpetually shedding tinsel that Charlie had insisted on (the bunker is absolutely coated in the stuff).  
As he comes in line with the hall, he sees Cas about to come through the door. "Hey, man, we were looking for you," Dean says, going up to clap him on the shoulder.  
Then he stops.  
From behind him he hears Charlie and Kevin stop talking, and Sam laughing under his breath.  
"Fuck," Dean says eloquently. Above their heads, held up with peeling scotch tape, is mistletoe.  
Cas frowns and looks up, blue eyes widening a bit when he realizes what's going on.  
"Um," he says.  
"C'mon, Dean," Sam calls. "Rules are rules."  
Charlie, too, laughs and says, "Go for it, Tiger."  
Dean shakes his head and takes a tiny step back. If it were any other guy, he'd give him a huge, gross, laughable joke kiss. But when he'd done that before, with guys at high school parties, they'd played along and everyone had laughed. Cas wouldn't do that, Cas would kiss back and be disgustingly sincere and _mean it_ with his stupid fucking lips and pink tongue and the stubble around his mouth and Dean really needs to stop thinking about that.  
"Dude, no," he tries.  
Cas frowns. "Dean," he says, "I thought you said this was the tradition?"  
A chorus of 'ohhhhh!'s go up from behind Dean.  
Dean opens and closes his mouth a few times but can't think of a reply for the life of him. He licks his lips.  
Suddenly, Cas takes a tiny step forward, tiptoes just enough to be Dean's height, and pecks him on the lips.  
Dean is speechless. Cas settles back onto his feet looking calm, and Dean tries to form words but comes up with nothing.  
Then, without running it through his filter, Dean blurts out, "What a lame-ass kiss." And without thinking he twists his neck and kisses Cas full on the mouth, pressing their lips together. There's nothing joking about this kiss, just Cas's 5 o'clock shadow rubbing against Dean's chin and his lips that taste like peppermint hot chocolate. They don't even start with the open-mouthed making out, as Dean has SOME modesty, and that's something he reserves for more private situations.  
When Dean realizes Sam, Charlie, and Kevin are whooping and cheering behind him, he whips away and spins around, face reddening. "What?" he says. "It's freakin' mistletoe, Charlie'd have my ass if I skipped another Christmas tradition." Charlie, however, is grinning devilishly, and Dean has to wonder if maybe she had something to do with the mistletoe in the first place.  
"Nice," Sam says with a grin, and Kevin looks to be stifling his laughter with another cookie. Dean stomps over to his seat and sits down heavily.  
"Motherfuckers," he mumbles.  
He hears steps behind him as Cas leaves the doorway and walks around to sit on the other side of Sam. He grabs a cookie and starts in on it as Dean takes a swig of eggnog, putting the mug down just in time to see Cas licking the red sugar from his lips excruciatingly slowly. From the look Sam's giving him, Dean's pretty sure he knows what Dean's looking at, but it doesn't stop Dean's thoughts of 'Cas needs more practice.'


End file.
